A Killer's Story
by Technomad
Summary: The story of O-Ren Ishii's top bodyguard...and how she became what she now is.


A Killer's Story

a _Battle Royale/Kill Bill_ crossover fic

by Technomad

(I do not own _Battle Royale_ nor _Kill Bill_, and am not making any money from this. All rights in the characters here belong to their creators)

I know what they think of me.

Freak. Unwomanly. Killer. Monster.

They don't say anything to my face (who would dare, after all?) but I can see the thoughts behind their polite smiles.

After all, in most ways I'm everything a Japanese girl should never be.

Japanese girls are polite, deferential and obedient to men.

I obey no man, and defer to no man.

What is worst, in their eyes, is that I kill. I kill with supreme skill, without mercy, and without an ounce of remorse. I enjoy killing.

But I wasn't always this way.

Once I was a normal, happy Japanese schoolgirl. Until It happened.

After It was over, I was alone in the world; my family had been killed, my friends were all dead, and I had no place to go and no way to make a living. Then the Mistress found me.

She found out about an…incident…in a bar. A man had tried to pick me up. Many Japanese men are inordinately attracted by the sight of a pretty young girl in one of the demure uniforms that schools require us to wear; it's got something to do with early imprinting, or so I am informed.

` If the man had been smarter, he'd have wondered what a high-school-age girl like me was doing in a bar in the first place. Unfortunately for him, he was a prime example of the "instant idiot, just add alcohol" class, and all he could see was what looked like a fantasy come true.

After what I went through during It, I was in no mood to be pawed and slobbered over by some drunk salary-man. I admit, I led him on for a while…I've always enjoyed flirting…but when things got a little too heated, I stabbed him very efficiently.

I got away in the ensuing confusion; luckily for me, there was a class of high schoolers on a trip outside whose uniforms resembled mine enough that I could hide among them, and I stayed with them until things calmed down. But the Mistress' people had seen the whole thing. There's not much that gets past her.

Unbeknownst to myself, I was trailed all the way back to where I was staying, a miserable one-room apartment in a shabby part of town. Before It happened, I'd have been terrified of even entering such a neighborhood. After I came back, and was discharged from the hospital, such fears were beyond me, and I didn't have much money. The local people saw how fearlessly I moved, and saw…something…in my eyes, and moved aside when I came through.

I came out of my front door the next morning to find several men waiting for me. I stepped back, grabbing for a weapon, but they bowed politely and told me that their employer wanted to meet me. The words "job offer" got my attention; I got a stipend, after surviving It, but it was very small. I couldn't do most kinds of work open to people with my limited education. I was too twitchy, as that unfortunate salary-man had found out to his great cost.

Once I'd equipped myself for a trip, the men escorted me politely to where their employer was waiting. I'd never been in such luxurious surroundings, and, despite myself, looked around curiously. After a few minutes I was deferentially ushered into a beautiful office with a window overlooking the city, and saw the Mistress for the first time.

The Mistress knew who I was; she had seen my face on the television after It was over. She greeted me warmly, served me tea with her own hands, and told me how glad she was to meet me. That got to me, and before I knew it, I was melting down, sobbing in my chair for the first time since before It started.

Under the Mistress' gentle questioning, I ended up telling her everything…my life before It happened, all the things that happened during It, and how things had gone since It. She listened, her kindly face never changing, and did not condemn me for anything I'd done. When I finally ran down, I expected her to throw me out of her office in disgust for what I'd become.

Instead, to my utter shock, she offered me a job.

Now I have a new life, to replace the one that It took away from me.

The Mistress even gave me a new name.

I am no longer the person I once was.

I am Gogo Yubari. The person who won the Battle Royale Program several years ago is now gone…an "unperson," to quote the foreign author George Orwell.

And I now use the skill I gained in the Battle Royale Program for greater purposes than to slaughter random drunks.

I am Gogo Yubari, and I serve my mistress…O-Ren Ishii.

END


End file.
